


Check Up

by triscuit



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Medical Kink, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 13:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1512587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triscuit/pseuds/triscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ratchet and Drift meet up for an unconventional medical treatment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Check Up

**Author's Note:**

> For this kinkmeme prompt: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11776.html?thread=14173952  
> Terminology:   
> Decacycle = Month

“Come on Drift, up on the table.” Ratchet was getting impatient, he had spent too much time tracking down his absent patient. To make matters worse, he had to pry him out of Rodimus’ office. Primus only knows what they were doing in there. He was just thankful he didn’t see much more than he usually did of the two.

As Drift moved to lie down, Ratchet pulled at the sides of the table. It took a few tugs, but the stirrups clicked up into place. The loud noise made it difficult to hear the little apology that his patient quietly gave him. “Just remember, this is supposed to be once a decacycle. I’m just asking you to be more aware.”

Drift finally smiled at him. He was beginning to relax at least. “I’ll keep better track next time, I promise.” He laid down on the table, his thick thighs spread wide as he rested his legs in the stirrups. 

Ratchet secured Drift’s legs. He didn’t want a repeat of their previous session. Believe it or not, Ratchet didn’t exactly enjoy being kicked in the head by ticklish mechs. “Now, have you been handling your personal sessions that you are supposed to be maintaining?” 

“Of course!” Drift happily replied, “Rodimus has been helping me.” 

He was afraid of that. “Drift, you’re supposed to be learning to take care of yourself. Not using the help of-” 

“But he’s just so talented at helping, Ratchet. He knows the right way to move his glossa and it-”

Ratchet’s optics widened as he sighed in exasperation. “Just open your panel, alright?” His face was already beginning to heat up. Drift didn’t even have to try to get him bothered like this. Ratchet actually found it pretty embarrassing. It was a good thing Drift never seemed to notice the effect he had on him. 

Drift nodded again, just as cheerful as before. “No problem.” With that, his panel clicked open. 

The sight that greeted Ratchet had forced his vents to kick in. He could see lubricant dripping out of Drift already. Those perfect white lips having just the slightest blush to them. It made him feel a lot younger than it should have.

“R-right, let’s get to it.” Ratchet hummed, tracing his fingers over the folds of Drift’s valve. 

How was he already this warm and ready? 

Ratchet had to chalk it up to the reason he was doing this procedure in the first place. Cons, former or not, just had too much energy for their own good. Too much energy turns into aggression, and aggression turns into violence. 

So to keep things in balance, he just had to help Drift let off a bit of steam. It was for his own good.

Drift never objected, anyway. 

“Come on, Ratchet.” Drift spoke, looking down at him with a frown. His hips wiggled expectantly, trying to get any extra stimulation that he could. Those fingers against him were just a tease, he couldn’t find pleasure from just that. 

“Calm down, this isn’t the type of procedure you rush. You know that, Drift.” Ratchet scolded, trying to keep his composure. The way Drift was pushing against him didn’t help. “Just relax and let me take care of this.” 

Ratchet pushed one digit past the lips of his warm valve. Unsurprisingly, Drift was already squeezing him tightly. Running his other hand over Drift’s abdomen, he hummed, “I can’t go any further if you don’t relax. Just try to let your mind wander.” Ratchet began to ease his finger against one of the outermost sensors. He made sure to keep his pace slow as he rubbed it gently.

And just like that, he was able to slide in another. 

“There you go. Good job, Drift.” He spoke, scissoring his fingers inside him. The pace was still slow, just wanting to spread Drift a little bit more. With every movement he could feel more lubricant gushing out, it was making his whole hand sticky. As he looked up, he could see Drift. 

He looked absolutely perfect.

The poor thing was nibbling on his own hand. His optics were bright as he watched Ratchet, drooling on himself. He was trembling, and he was holding back little whimpers and moans. At least he knew he was doing a good job. Especially from the way Drift was blushing as his vents softly hitched in anticipation for more. 

Rubbing over Drift’s abdomen gently, he eased in a third finger. This time he was able to begin to push into the deeper inner sensors. Ratchet began to swirl his fingers over one in particular, insistently pressing against it. 

And like that, Drift’s spike pressurized. It was already dripping with transfluid. The pretty red lights that ran along the underside of his spike quickly became soaked. Drift couldn’t even hold back his moan at that point, letting out a loud cry in the medical bay. 

If this wasn’t so routine, Ratchet would’ve worried about the rest of his staff poking in to ask what was happening. 

As much as Ratchet wanted to take Drift’s spike into his mouth, to make even that part of him feel good. That just wasn’t part of the procedure. He wouldn’t allow himself to be unprofessional. Even if he was having a difficult time keeping his own spike from pressurizing. He just had to remind himself, this wasn’t anything like interfacing. This was his job, he was helping.

Ratchet continued to massage deeper inside Drift, finally easing in his last finger. It made him thankful that he had Drift properly restrained. His hips kept jerking up, his legs shivering and pulling at the stirrups as he tried to get even more stimulation. The poor thing was nearly crying, drool freely dripping out of his lips as he whimpered for more. 

“Ratchet. Ratchet… Ratchet!” Just hearing his name repeated like that. It was becoming too much for the medic. He was too old for this kind of temptation. Didn’t he already dodge his fair share of incidents? 

“Hush. You don’t want to disturb the other patients.” As even as he tried to keep his tone, he felt a tremble to it. 

Drift just nodded, shivering as another gush of lubricant stained the sheets under him. The sticky mess was making him more excited. Pressing his thighs close to Ratchet’s hand, his back arched. He was close, so close.

Ratchet was immediately distracted by Drift’s round thighs. He tried his best not to think about how much he wanted to kiss them. How much he wanted to suck on them and… not the time, he could think about these things after hours. Not now. 

Spreading his fingers wide inside Drift, he tried to focus on his work. With every twist and turn of his fingers he could feel the telltale signs of an overload approaching. He just needed to last through this longer. The way Drift’s valve was squeezing him meant he was close. Just a little bit more and…

Drift cried out, his body trembling as he rode out his overload. It made his mind feel wonderfully empty, and his body felt perfectly relaxed. All he could do was drool as he rested his head back. He could barely manage a coherent thought, just merely basking in his afterglow.

Ratchet sighed softly, patting Drift’s abdomen before pulling his fingers out. The rush of hot lubricant that gushed out after made his own vents exhale softly. He just tried to immediately distract himself.

He used the sheet to clean off Drift’s valve and spike. It was difficult not to blush with how soaked it was. Putting the sheet away in the proper disposal chute, he washed his hands. Ratchet didn’t waste any time in loosening the bindings on Drift, easing his legs off of the stirrups. He made sure to look back at Drift, checking to see how alert he was. 

“If you want, you can stay here for a while. To recoup.” Ratchet spoke, trying to keep his tone from being too warm. As he was wiping the drool from the corner of Drift’s lips, he watched him slowly nod. With the way Drift’s optics were already dimmed, he must have been exhausted. 

Grabbing for another blanket, he laid it over Drift. “Alright, just make sure not to stay too long. This isn’t a hotel, it’s a medbay.” Ratchet turned away, getting prepared to go check on another patient. He assumed Drift had already begun recharging the moment he had the chance.

“Ratchet.” That drowsy voice hummed, the sounds of sheets shifting being heard. 

“Yeah, kid?” He tried to keep his tone even and calm. Even with his own emotions still reeling.

“Thanks.” Drift replied, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself. 

“Just doing my job.” Ratchet couldn’t help but allow himself to smile, leaving Drift to a peaceful recharge.


End file.
